Birds In Row There Is Only One Chair In This Room
A bunch of thoughts quietly laying on the silence, and a
ton of reasons to not open the doors. I’ve been looking
for space and time in the moments I shared, but time
fades away and my space is a whore raped by thousands of
strangers, and begging for rest. Call me disaster or
social retard but I only feel safe between my two pairs
of walls. Don’t let me out the world outside is a damn
f..cking nightmare. And the people a joke that should have
stayed stuck on the teeth of its goddamn son of a bitch
owner. When nothing seems clear through the cleanest
window, the obvious would say the problems not in and the
doors will stay closed for all strangers. May my building
burn and I will surely burn into it. There is only one
chair in this room and it does not wear my name.
